Spare the rod
by Pinkie Tuscadaro
Summary: Shawn laments his troubled life while feeling jealous of Corey.
1. Chapter 1

Corey was complaining and I just listened, sitting on his comfortable bed in his nice room in his nice house. I looked around at the pictures, the curtains, the plushy rug. He didn't know how good he had it. Parents who cared about him, stability. I didn't have any of that.

"Right, Shawn?" he said after busting his parents about something that they should have been doing anyway. This was the part when I usually agreed, said, 'Sure, Corey, you're right,' even though I was dying of jealousy inside. I wanted Corey's life. But not this time. Maybe I'd let him know how I really felt.

"No, Corey, not right. You, you're parents, they only do that shit because they care about you. They get mad because you aren't doing good in this class because, it's like, they love you and want you to do well. What do you think my parents would say if I failed a class? Nothing. They would say nothing, they wouldn't even notice, because they don't care. My father cares about drinking, that's about it. Not me. Unless you want to call getting hit with a belt being cared about. Because he's done that more than once. So why not appreciate what you have for once, instead of complaining about it all the time?"

He looked at me with that open mouthed look of his, it was comical really. And I felt kind of stupid. It wasn't Corey's fault he was born into the family I wanted, just like it wasn't my fault my parents drank all the time and didn't give a shit about me.

I took off, out the room and down the stairs, past the puzzled looks of Corey's parents and little sister. I felt stupid, and I'd have to go home sometime. The light was just fading out of the sky but that was better. I'd rather not see the awful trailer park with the scraggly weeds and broken plastic toys in the yards. I could smell the whiskey before I even got up to the door, and I heard my dad's slurred speech. I sighed. Sometimes I really hated my life.

"Shawn!" his hearty greeting, and I smiled by just showing my teeth.

"Hey, dad,"

"Where ya been?"

"Corey's,"

There was one light over the table, it was too bright and gleamed off all the cheap chrome things in the kitchen, the metal edge of the table, the stovetop. The dirty dishes piled in the little sink, the glass whiskey bottle that was in the middle of the table. My dad was in a pretty good mood. But that could change.


	2. Chapter 2

It was getting later and I still wasn't tired. They were getting louder, out in the kitchen with all their liquor. I tried not to hear them, putting my pillow over my ears. My room was the size of a closet, and I felt jealous of Corey again, because he had a big room even though he shared it with Eric.

My dad was talking in that loud, slurred, drunk voice that I hated. It didn't matter that he was laughing and his mood seemed good because when he got loud like that with the drinking his mood could change in a second. Someone out there put music on, some old group from the 60's but they weren't that bad. But my dad was talking so loud he was louder than the music and now he was getting angry, I heard the change, like the key of a song suddenly turning on the knife edge.

I knew what the difference was between my family and Corey's, and it wasn't just the money. The difference was his parents focused on their kids. Their kids were the important things to them, that's why they worked so hard. Me, my family, the kids were like in the way. We were in the way of their parties and drinking and get rich quick schemes. It didn't mean they didn't love us, my dad loved me, it wasn't that. It was just the focus was different.

It was late. I had school tomorrow. It was like midnight already and the party out there was still in full swing, loud and the music blasting out of that old radio my dad found. Found. He didn't buy it he found it kind of like stole. But hey, who was I to judge? Feeney wondered why I always slept in class.

What would Corey be doing right now? Sleeping just like he was supposed to be. This jealousy was kind of getting to me. Corey was my best friend and I was coveting his life. It was just that I couldn't get to sleep with the music and all those drunk voices. The walls were too thin.

Finally they were leaving. Slowly, stumbling to the door and down the three steps to the dirt yard, but I heard the bang of the screen door as his friends left. Someone lowered the radio, it still played but now it was faint. I thought I might be able to fall asleep now, and it was one a.m. at least. If I fell asleep now I wouldn't be that tired in school tomorrow, maybe. I hoped.

Just as I was about to drift off I heard my dad's heavy footsteps in the hall and then my door swung open so hard it hit the wall. I sat bolt upright in the bed and my heart was beating too fast.

"Shawn!" Oh god he was so drunk, his eyes half shut, and I could smell the liquor on him, it was coming out of his pores. I didn't say anything, just sat back as close to the wall and as far from him as I could get. I felt the adrenaline pumping through me, my eyes were wide open. Shit, shit. There was no where to go.

"Jesus Christ, Shawn, what have I told you about leaving that goddamn kitchen a fucking mess!" He was out of his mind. He was mad all his friends left before he was ready to stop all the drinking. I mean, leave the kitchen a mess? I was at school all day and then at Corey's house, I had nothing to do with whatever mess was out there, whatever mess he had made.

I still didn't say anything. I knew from bitter experience that it didn't help to say anything, he wasn't listening anyway. So I just watched him and waited, sometimes he went away.

"I'll teach you…" he muttered as he pulled the belt from around his waist. I tried to shrink into the corner by the window, tried to get into a little ball. It didn't help, nothing helped. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried not to feel it as the belt hit me.

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School. School started way too early, but everyone else looked nice and rested. Not me. I didn't sleep at all last night.

"Hey, Shawn," Corey said, coming up to me. He looked like he thought I was mad at him a little. I wasn't. It wasn't his fault.

"Hey, Core,"

"We're okay, right?" he said, starting to smile because he knew we were.

"Yeah, we're okay,"

"Good," he said, and slapped me on the back. I tried not to wince even though it hurt like hell. But if I showed it he'd know, because I told him yesterday about my dad hitting me and I didn't like him knowing that. I wish I hadn't said it. So I smiled and hoped I didn't look like I was in pain.

We watched Topanga come over to Corey, hang on him and flirt with him. It was more of Corey's charmed life. He was inseparable with that girl. Me, I had a different girlfriend every week because I wouldn't trust them. They'd hurt me like everyone else has so I'd hurt them first, I'd get rid of them before they could hurt me.

The bell rang and I just remembered I didn't do any of my homework, none at all. God, this sucked. It just sucked.

"C'mon," Corey said, dragging me with him to history class. I stumbled after him, sat in the desk right behind him. Feeney walked in and gave me that knowing look filled with pity and disappointment. Sometimes I thought Feeney knew everything just by looking at you.

He started to talk about some boring shit that I didn't care about, useless information. But I tried to listen. I tried. But I was so damn tired and the truth was it was safer to sleep here than at my own house. Trailer. Whatever. Feeney's voice went on and on and I just couldn't keep my eyes open anymore.


End file.
